Floyd County's Katherine Fraze Pours Compassion On Canines
by Cynthia Schultz
"The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated." - Mahatma Gandhi.
Katherine Fraze can remember a time as a child when her mother cried out to her father to stop the car. A stray puppy in a field needed rescuing, her mother said. Today, Fraze, a 38-year-old widow, has become her mother many times over. That childhood incident planted a seed of compassion for animals, Fraze said. Today, Fraze no longer harbors ambitions to go to law school or to return to her job as a chef or nanny. She runs a dog sanctuary, the Save That Dog Sanctuary, which she opened in February of 1998. The not-for-profit foundation is on 130 acres tucked away in the wilderness of Floyd County's knobs. The dogs - about 40 of them -- can romp and bark without disturbing anyone.
Animal rescue work has become Fraze's life work. Her mother, Karen Gay, an artist living in Salem, Indiana, is proud of her daughter, calling her "the female Dr. Doolittle." Gay said, "When she was little, she brought home strays all of the time. This is her calling. She wants to be the savior of all four-legged animals." And at least one two-legged one. Fraze recently adopted a chicken she named Judy, given to her by her gravel deliveryman. Judy was being attacked by his other chickens and needed a new home. Nowadays, Judy enjoys a heating pad in her cage and lays 'big, brown, farm fresh eggs' for Fraze.
While living in Louisville in 1996, Fraze became known as "the dog lady" because "animals began showing up at my door, either left on purpose or more likely found by me", says Fraze. On a recent day, the 40 dogs, ranging from a 6-pound aging Yorkshire Terrier to a 100-pound bloodhound, raced up a long driveway to greet this reporter. The dogs, rescued from abandonment, abuse, or neglect, have found their way into Fraze's home and heart. Her goal is to place them into loving homes. But even as she places one, another animal comes in. She traces the need for her efforts to irresponsible people not spaying or neutering their animals. Some of her canines however have become her own companions. The dog she has taken in most recently is a coonhound she named Mira. "She was found by a realtor inspecting a vacant barn," Fraze said. "She was discovered her with her puppies, who were two or three hours old and frozen to death. Mira was covered in blood, indicating that she had been attacked, probably trying to protect her pups", said Fraze, who received a call from an animal shelter that had taken the dog.
Then there's Fred, a feral collie mix found roaming Harrison County. A woman slowly befriended him and asked Fraze to take him afterward. Bailey, a shepherd mix recently hobbling around with a cast on her leg, had been hit by a car and taken to a vet by a Good Samaritan. Fraze got a call to take her in. "I'm always getting a call." Gloria Swanson, a 12-year-old female Yorkshire Terrier named for the actress was found running the streets of New Albany unspayed and bedraggled. Fraze believes the dog was running away from a lifetime of being, "irresponsibly, if not cruelly, forced to breed non-stop by some puppy mill creep to earn extra cash." Now she is spayed and claims Fraze as her permanent caregiver. "She sleeps on a pillow and watches 'All My Children' and 'Knots Landing' reruns."
While Fraze calls home a 35 foot by 12 foot camper without running water (an outside tank provides what's needed) she says she and the dogs fare well. They have heaters and electric blankets, while others prefer to be by the nightly campfire Fraze builds. Mike, a bird dog, romps around with a red flannel shirt on to keep the cold at bay. "He's always shivering", says Fraze, who caters to individual needs. On this day, Fraze set out on her chores of watering the dogs and filling long, blue, hog-trough feeders with dry dog chow covered with warm chicken stock. "It's a sanctuary, a sort of mission home for the dogs. I teach them to feel safe, loved and special."
When it comes to trimming nails, cleaning ears, administering post operative or presurgical care Fraze is certainly qualified. For three years she worked in veterinary medicine as an emergency surgical technician. Each day Fraze takes the pack of dogs for a two-mile walk through the hills. On this day, some dogs scattered as they romped, enthusiastically barking. Others a bit older and slower lagged behind, like Jed, a handsome bloodhound. "It's like living with 40 three year old children. It's a sweet, unspoiled atmosphere." Fraze called out in a firm voice to correct some of the dogs, like Lisa, who was antagonizing others. When Fraze spoke the dogs turned and listened. "They know that the big dog is me," said Fraze, acknowledging the seriousness of that responsibility. "I'm always aware of my role here. It's imperative that the dogs respect me and always follow my lead, so to speak."
Not only does Fraze care for 40 dogs, but other chores include pet-education programs at elementary and middle schools where Fraze distributes "care cards" to children to fill in later and present to people they observe being kind. Visiting hospice centers and foster care facilities is a "full-time job without pay." Still, she said, "I wouldn't do anything else for a million dollars." Running a dog haven isn't what Fraze envisioned for her life. She and her late husband, Richard, bought the property several years ago intending to build a geothermal log home from the timber on their, land but her husband died of leukemia on Christmas Eve in 1993. At first, she says, visiting the property after her husband died was too painful. However, the land kept calling to her and she made the decision to move lock, stock and barrel up to the Knobs. "I was determined, and that, coupled with my passion for animals and nature, was the foundation of my new life", says Fraze.
Local veterinarians are very supportive of Fraze's work and trust her. "Any time we need her help or intervention with an animal she is always willing, enthusiastic and empathetic - yet abandoned animals are everyone's problem", says Dr. Pat Turns. "Katherine is so good. There are a lot of people out there who say they want to help but she is the real deal. She has the focus, experience and the instinct needed to do this work and not get burned out, let alone be as successful as she is in an area where a lot of people lose perspective. She has done 95% of the work herself. If the public only knew how many animals and people she has helped, I know would they would reach out to help her. She lives a very simple life, which allows her to devote all of her dwindling funds to her work. This sort of dedication has helped save a lot of animals, which in turn helps a lot of people, too. We'd like to see her receiving more help from all the animal lovers out there so she can continue her work without being distracted by the financial burdens that restrict her in saving more lives - human and animals."
Katherine Fraze can remember a time as a child when her mother cried out to her father to stop the car. A stray puppy in a field needed rescuing, her mother said. Today, Fraze, a 38-year-old widow, has become her mother many times over. That childhood incident planted a seed of compassion for animals, Fraze said. Today, Fraze no longer harbors ambitions to go to law school or to return to her job as a chef or nanny. She runs a dog sanctuary, the Save That Dog Sanctuary, which she opened in February of 1998. The not-for-profit foundation is on 130 acres tucked away in the wilderness of Floyd County's knobs. The dogs - about 40 of them -- can romp and bark without disturbing anyone.